Fated
by fififolle
Summary: Hot Zone spinoff. A Dumais fic. Some background, some work, some ship, some tragedy. Grodin Dumais. Complete.
1. Dig

**Disclaimers**: I do not own these characters; this is written for fun or something, I make no money etc.

**Spoilers: Hot Zone, **plus** Rising** through to** Siege (1),** none until chapter 3, specific details with each chapter.

**Summary: HOT ZONE Spin-off. **A Dumais fic. Some background, some work, some ship, some tragedy.**  
**

**Warning: **Character deaths.

**A/N:  
**

Some background for Annette Dumais, how she meets Peter Grodin, and of course, sadly, her untimely end, and his. Grodin/Dumais fic ;)

Dumais… McKay seemed to be quite genuine when he complimented her in Hot Zone. That merits a little fanfic imagination, don't you think?

Grodin/Dumais… A pair that wouldn't leave me alone, ever since I shipped them in my Beckett/Chair fic.

So I decided Dumais needed a background. This fic has been brewing a long time. Her profession caught my ear as I listened to an interview on the radio many months ago. Warning for friendly digs at French/American/British relations! This is quite a long journey through the events of a year. I hope to post a little every few days or so.

There are shared universe moments from several of my other fics, at least four I can think of, and one I haven't posted yet ;)

**Many thanks to Keenir for beta.** Any remaining quirks are my own ;)

* * *

_"She was lovely and talented." Dr Rodney McKay PhD_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Annette Dumais brushed away the trickle of sweat that tickled her temple. She leaned back on her heels, and looked up at the hot spring sun, shielding her eyes with her arm.

"Jacques!" she called, straightening her white sleeveless t-shirt that had got rumpled round her middle. She was kneeling in a dusty hole in the ground, but not just any dusty hole. It was part of an archaeological site in southern France. Her trench was a foot or so deep, and two perpendicular lines of stones had been carefully exposed.

A lanky, dark-haired man drew himself up from his own dusty hole twenty feet away. He slapped his hands across the back of his cut-off faded denim shorts, and made to climb out.

"What have you got, Annette?" Jacques spoke English with a thick French accent. He loosened his shirt and let it flap around his waist as he made his way across.

He reached the lip of her trench, and she squinted up at him. Her North American accent contrasted sharply with his. "Look." She took her small trowel and scraped it against the line of stones sitting in relief with the surrounding ground. "This wall ends here. And see where it abuts? This was definitely here first." She gave the first stone in the adjoining line a couple of sharp scrapes.

"So the infirmary _was_ added to the abbey at a later date." Jacques leaned his hands on his bent knees, to get a better look.

"Now we know for sure. It fits with the manuscript, too, Paul will be pleased." She tucked the escaping strand of brown hair behind her ear, and adjusted her ponytail.

Jacques gave her a huge smile. "It's good work, Annette. I wish you could stay all summer."

"I know. I'm sorry. But you'll have all the students here soon. And I want to get back in the lab." She stood up, and stretched her arms and legs, stiff from kneeling for so long. "I should record this now. Pass me the clipboard?"

He handed her the board, and watched as she scribbled her notes. "Annette. Annette. You know you love helping with the fieldwork. Why not stay? The students take a while to break in, I could do with the help."

"Sorry, Jacques. Besides, I might have to get organised for a big job coming my way."

"Oh?" The Frenchman frowned. "You have not told me of this."

"I can't really tell you much. Just that there might be a big private job in the pipeline. They want to use my skill to take native plants and try to produce drugs from them. I get the impression it's some kind of elaborate recreation project – an American one." She put the clipboard down, and held a hand out to Jacques.

He helped her from the trench, and snorted. "Pah. Americans. Always throwing money in the wrong direction. Annette, your work is marvellous, in a historical context. But that kind of project sounds like a lot of nonsense."

They wandered across the field together towards the site tent.

She sighed. "I don't know all the details, Jacques. Back at the university I'm almost finished the herb work from the English monastery. And you won't be getting any plant material out of the infirmary here for a few months yet. I adore living in France, but I need the work. And you know that as much as I love helping here, my expertise lies elsewhere, and I want to keep in my own field as much as I can."

They grabbed bottles of water and threw themselves onto chairs inside the tent. Annette pulled her hair out of its ponytail, and dragged her fingers through her hair, finally putting the band back more tightly. Jacques leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"I'll miss you, Annette."

"I know, Jacques. I'll miss you too." She smiled at him.

* * *

**A/N: **Have I caught your imagination? I hope so. Join me for a journey with Dumais... if you don't, I'll just go alone... 

BTW, why do archaeologists often wear white? Makes no sense to me ;)


	2. Chosen

**A/N:** Thanks to **Keenir** for beta

No, she won't be in Atlantis for a short while yet…

Words in _italics_ are spoken in French, just I've kindly translated them for you ;) Except for a few phrases, which I'm sure you all know, or guess.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"_Bonjour, Fabrice. What is happening today?_" Gerard Leclerc, the government Attaché for the science arm of the French Defence Department, strode towards his office.

The assistant sat up a little straighter at his desk in the sumptuous anteroom, and read out from the diary in front of him.

"_We are expecting the Chief Executive Officer of Defence Research and Development Canada. He will be here at eleven, Monsieur Leclerc._"

Leclerc stopped in his tracks and turned, slowly. There was surprise in his eyes.

"_That's today? Oh no. I need to be ready._"

The tall Frenchman patted at his silver hair as he swiftly turned and disappeared through the oak doors.

0o0o0

Leclerc sat relaxed in his large leather chair. His meeting with his visiting Canadian colleague had been pleasant, but had not reached the crux of the matter. He had raised the matter of Dr Dumais, but the Canadian was unyielding.

Leclerc addressed the Canadian in his accented English. "Don't you see, Doctor Falconer? It is a matter of honour to France that we have representation on the expedition. You already have several scientists, including the Chief Scientist Doctor McKay, and some military also. Am I correct?"

The Canadian managed to contain his irritation and shock. "Monsieur Leclerc. I do not know how you obtained that information, but I can assure you that any citizen of ours on the expedition has been chosen purely on merit. We have already approached Doctor Dumais, and she has expressed some interest."

The Frenchman leaned forward on his large desk, and peered across at his guest. "Doctor Falconer. Let me remind you, we have also approached Doctor Dumais. She was born in France, and currently lives in France. I insist that she join the expedition as a French citizen."

Mike Falconer leaned forward too. "OK, Gerard. Let's not argue here. We have case of dual-citizenship here, and we both want her on the team. Why don't we ask her; let her decide? I say we tell her she's got the place if she wants it. She can go as a French citizen, or a Canadian, it's up to her. If you like, I'll let you tell her she'll be the only French citizen that's cut it. Fair enough?"

The silver haired man slumped a little. "I suppose it is as good as I can hope for. You know, the Americans were very harsh with our candidates. I am disappointed. Such an amazing expedition. Their progress in Antarctica alone has been spectacular." He shook his head sadly.

"Come on, Gerard, don't lose heart. Maybe she'll take pity on you."

0o0o0

The old woman watched intently as her dark-haired granddaughter slit open the envelope and drew out the letter, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"_What is it, Annette?_"

"_They want me, bonne maman. I'll be leaving next month."_ Annette looked across the breakfast table into her grandmother's shocked face.

"_Oh, Annette! What will your mother say? She didn't want you to come here!"_

"_I know. But it's my job, bonne maman. There are no medieval hospitals in Canada. Sometimes I wish I hadn't found my way into such an exclusive little niche. But I have. And this is an exciting new opportunity."_

The old woman got up from the table and began clearing dishes, fussing around_. "Oh, what will I do? I have got used to you being here. Oh, ma cherie…"_

Annette stood up and wrapped her arms around her grandmother. _"I'm sorry, bonne maman. I wish I could stay. I've loved it here with you these past two years. I'm going to miss you too."_

0o0o0

Her heels echoed eerily as she made her way along the long marble-floored corridor. She looked admiringly at the ornate ceiling plaster, in between glances at the piece of paper she held and at the door numbers, making sure she found the right room.

Almost at the end of the corridor, she found the huge oak-panelled double doors, with the shiny brass plate proclaiming "Office d'Attaché Technologies de Sécurité". She found herself smiling at the thought that Jacques would never know that she was accepting a job from a Defence department. And with the French government, no less. She smoothed down her rarely used formal jacket, feeling a little nervous.

She took a deep breath, and knocked. Instantly, one of the doors was opened from within, and a young, handsome man in a dark suit welcomed her inside. His French accent was barely noticeable through his perfect English.

"Doctor Dumais? Please, come in. The Attaché wants to see you straight away."

She looked around at the plush office, as she followed him across the deep pile carpet and into a large, oak-panelled room beyond. The young man held the door for her as she stepped through, and silently closed it as he withdrew.

A distinguished-looking gentleman sitting behind the large desk stood up and walked around to meet her. His silver hair and long face lent him an air of authority, but he smiled charmingly and held out his hand in welcome, and introduced himself.

"Gerard Leclerc. Thank you for coming this morning, Doctor Dumais. I wanted to meet you in person before you leave."

She shook his hand and returned his smile. "Thank you, sir. I am very excited to be going, of course. Thank you for forwarding my name."

"Please, sit." He gestured to the leather chair in front of his desk, and he moved around to his own chair. "Your reputation preceded you, of course. It was fortunate for me that I have a personal interest in such things. When the Minister made his request for candidate suggestions, I knew you would be perfect. I am very grateful you have chosen to represent France."

"And I am the only French citizen they are taking?"

Leclerc sighed. "Indeed. And who knows, if you hadn't had dual-Canadian citizenship, we may not have had any representation."

She frowned. "That can't be true, sir. It is surely an international expedition."

"That is how they put it. But with so many brilliant scientists to choose from around the world, it is inevitable that only the best would be chosen. From our candidates, your unique ability must have stood out."

Dumais looked down, a little embarrassed. "I am proud to be representing France, sir. The Canadian government officer said there would be several Canadians on the team."

He nodded. "Yes, that is true. We are extremely grateful to you for participating in our name. I wish you every success in this monumentous adventure."

* * *

**A/N:** She had to speak French for her Grandma! 


	3. Cheyenne

**Spoilers: **Rising

**A/N: **Thanks to** Keenir **for beta.

At last, Dumais meets Peter!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"You speak Spanish very well."

Peter rose from his crouching position over a crate in the corridor, deep in Cheyenne Mountain. He turned to meet the owner of the soft, feminine voice. He tried to pinpoint the undertones beneath the American, no, correction, Canadian, accent. Those vowels always gave it away. And not Spanish, he thought, French, and only the barest hint. A pretty young woman was smiling at him. She tucked the strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear.

He held out his hand to shake. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I don't believe we have met. The name's Grodin, Peter Grodin."

"I know. A sergeant told me. I am Annette Dumais. I need to talk to you about the transfer of my equipment."

He frowned. "Dumais? Oh, yes. Of, course. I'm supposed to look at your crates. Glass?"

"Yes, a lot of fragile equipment, I'm afraid." She smiled apologetically.

As she led the way along the corridor, they dodged their busy colleagues. Everyone seemed intent on preparing for the 'gate travel that might be a one-way trip.

"You speak Spanish?" he asked, curious.

"Yes, a little. I heard you talking to José Vargas, he comes from a town near somewhere I used to work in northern Spain."

"Ah, yes, Vargas. One of my engineers, actually. Nice chap. Now tell me, how much equipment do you have, exactly?"

"There are six containers. I have taken only what I thought was absolutely necessary," she offered, knowing she had a large consignment.

"Of course. May I ask what you do?"

"Sure." She grinned knowingly. "By profession I am an archaeo-ethno-pharmacologist," she said, parsing the word. She looked into his eyes to judge his reaction.

Peter's eyebrows were raised high, his mouth open. "Am I supposed to translate that as well?"

"It shouldn't be that hard if you are so fluent in the Romance languages," she teased.

He shook his head, grinning. "Let me see. You dig up old bones and test them for illicit substances?"

"Nice try, Peter." She stopped beside a pile of containers. "Here. These are mine. I have two large crates and these four small cases." She pointed to a group of metal and fibreglass containers in the corridor.

Peter concentrated as he checked them over, and referred to his documents on the clipboard he carried. He briefly made some calculations, knowing how much gear the Marines were going to be able to take through the Stargate for the science contingent.

"OK. No problem. I'll get them all safely through for you tomorrow. The big day." He tucked his board under his arm, and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Coffee time?"

"Mmm. Good idea. Shall we?" She said, falling into step beside him as they headed for the elevator.

"So, tell me. What do you really do, Annette?"

She gave a small laugh. "All right. I haven't told you yet, have I? Well, I have some experience in recreating medicines used by people who lived long ago. Specifically, I have worked mostly with medieval sites in southern France and northern Spain. I analyse finds from the archaeological evidence, and try to mimic ancient practices, to produce usable and effective medication from natural materials, just as they did. It helps us learn more about a culture and how they applied medicinal practices. Dr Weir thinks I will become your very own pharmaceutical production unit, using whatever is available in the Pegasus galaxy."

"Wow." Peter was impressed. "I don't suppose there are many of you around?"

"I have similar colleagues in a few countries, but, no, you are right, it is not so common."

Grodin checked the flag on her shoulder. It was the French flag, but something just didn't quite fit. He frowned. "You're French?"

"Half." She replied, "I was born in France, but brought up in Canada; my parents are French. Until I came here, I had been working in Europe for a few years. My guess is that I am the closest thing they wanted to a French person on the team."

He raised an eyebrow at that one. "They get to look good on paper, but don't have to deal with France too much. Mmm, that sounds believable, sadly…And tell me, what's with all the glass equipment?"

"Glass is still our best material for many processes. Dr Weir has made me well aware that once Earth medical supplies run out, I may be crucial to our medicinal needs."

Grodin sought her eyes as the elevator slowed, approaching the mess level. "Well, I for one am glad they had the foresight to bring you along."

She smiled. "I am to work with Dr Beckett. Have you met him?"

"Carson? He's a good chap. I'm sure he's very pleased to have you on his team. My boss is Dr McKay."

Annette's brow furrowed. "My boss is Dr McKay also. All to do with laboratory allocation and that I am not actually clinical staff, in that I don't have direct patient contact. I have not met Dr McKay yet. Dr Beckett has told me to only interact with him if absolutely necessary."

Peter snorted. "Hah. He's not so bad. Just, well, I suppose…that's not bad advice actually." His eyes twinkled as he caught her surprised expression.

As they entered the mess, Peter led the way to an empty table.

"What can I get you? Coffee? Tea?" he asked as she sat.

"Black coffee please. Thank you." She smiled at him, and watched him thoughtfully as he walked away from her towards the serving counter.

When he returned, he handed her a cup. She took it, and blushed as their hands touched. He smiled, sensing the chemistry between them.

"Annette. If there is anything you need, now or when we get there, you will let me know, won't you?" he leaned forward, looking into her anxious eyes.

"That's very kind of you, Peter. This is all very exciting, but you can tell I am a little nervous."

"We all are, Annette. Believe me."

* * *

**A/N:** Wanted to post this before I go away for the weekend. No e-mail for three days... -eye twitches- 


	4. Arrival

**Spoilers: Rising**

**A/N: **Thanks to** Keenir **for beta.

At last, she arrives in Atlantis!

* * *

**Chapter Four**

With a deep breath, Annette closed her eyes and stepped through the event horizon. With another dozen people behind her, she couldn't turn around now. Not that she wanted to; the adventure that beckoned was overwhelmingly enticing. But the glowing shimmering circle of light was also intensely frightening.

She felt a little cold, but it was just one more step and she was in a large open chamber, following her new colleagues as they dragged their cases forward. It was hard to take in everything she was seeing, with Marines encouraging her to keep moving away from the Stargate and park up out of the way.

Looking up to a balcony in front of her, she spotted Peter Grodin, standing in front of some kind of computer screen. He looked engrossed and excited, which made her feel reassured. She turned, and followed some of the other scientists through some double sliding doors.

0o0o0

She'd never been so terrified in her whole life. All hell seemed to have broken loose. One minute they were dragging their packing cases into side rooms, checking out the new city, and the next the Marines were shouting and running, feet pounding in the corridors.

"Back to the 'gate! Move it!"

Before any of them could figure out what was happening, the floor was shaking, no, the whole room was shaking. She'd fallen against a sort of table and bruised her side, before deciding it was safer on the floor.

When the shaking has stopped, they had made their way back to the 'gate area, to find that the city had been underwater, and had now risen to the surface. Incredible.

"Come on!" Vargas had urged. "Let's take a look!"

They'd made their way over to the huge window, and crowded around with the other expedition members. They were high up, in a tower, looking down over a shiny, dripping, metal city, sprawled like a giant artificial water-lily, lying on the surface of an endless ocean of dark blue water. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

Turning around, she could see Peter, sitting at one of the large desks in the upper area of the large central space. He was concentrating on the controls in front of him, hands moving, brow furrowed. For an instant he stopped, and looked up, and his eyes almost at once came to rest on her. A broad grin came upon his face, and he raised one hand, making the briefest of waves.

She smiled back, and raised a hand in reply. They had arrived.

0o0o0

Doctor McKay had delegated lab allocation and supplies storage arrangements to Doctor Kavanagh. He'd had them all organised, everything mapped out, very quickly. Kavanagh seemed a little brusque, nervous, even, but she was still a little shaken, and figured he was too. He'd known exactly who she was and what she needed. Someone told her he was a chemist, so maybe he might be interested in her work. She resolved to keep on his good side, especially since she might want to work with him if she needed someone to bounce ideas off.

Within a couple of hours, Annette had her gear and equipment stored. With nothing of her own to work on, she offered her services to Doctor Kavanagh. He had gratefully asked her to help out with some substance analysis. Doctor Beckett had given them samples of an alien slime. She couldn't believe how fast everything was happening. An alien refugee population already in this city, and an enemy had captured the ranking Marine. Not just an ordinary scientific expedition by any means. She got to work, helping an American woman called Brenda to set up and calibrate a spectrometer.

"Did you think you would be analysing alien slime so soon?" Brenda asked, nervously.

"Um… Not really. In fact it's not something I'd ever expected to do. Did they tell you that you might end up doing this kind of thing?" Annette was incredulous, frankly.

"Sure. Why? What they tell you?" Brenda was genuinely surprised at Annette's answer.

"Not much. I'm a plant person. Not even living plants, usually."

Brenda squinted at her. "Huh?"

"Never mind, I'll explain later. Let's just get this set up quick. Dr Kavanagh seemed very anxious - we don't want to let him down."

Brenda snorted. "He's always anxious. Perfection isn't the word." Her expression softened. "I guess he's not as bad as Dr McKay when it comes to slave-driving." She looked down and concentrated on the calibration.

Annette looked at her thoughtfully. She seemed to have found herself with some interesting colleagues, in this other galaxy.

* * *


	5. Finding

**Spoilers: Rising**

**A/N: **Thanks to **Keenir **for beta.

Wanted to post this quick, get her meeting some more folk!

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five**

Everyone seemed relaxed now. Even considering the death of Colonel Sumner, there was an air of relief, one of palpable survival. Everyone was gathered in a balcony area, overlooking the seemingly endless ocean. They were having a communal meal to celebrate the end of Day One. Annette looked across at McKay and Beckett, tucking into the food. They looked as relieved as her to be still here, and, also like her, not yet entirely comfortable. It was good to know that she was not alone.

"Annette?" José Vargas stepped up to her side. He handed her a beaker with a very small helping of champagne, from the tray he carried. "There you are. Compliments of General O'Neill, apparently."

"Thanks." She smiled and raised her beaker. "To our new life, in Atlantis." She looked round at the other scientists nearby, who all raised their beakers too.

"Our new life." They drank it down in one go - not difficult with the tiny share from one bottle between them all.

Looking around, Annette spotted Peter Grodin. He was chatting and smiling to a group of attractive female scientists. She squashed her twinge of jealousy. She'd only just met the guy, and had no right to feel any of those things. But when he caught her stare, and excused himself from his companions, she knew she wasn't imagining it. The smile was growing on his face as he made his way across, and stepped between her and Vargas.

"Annette. Quite a day, wasn't it?" Then he frowned, looking carefully at her. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. But I can't believe all the things that have happened today, you know - the Wraith, losing the Colonel..." She shook her head sadly.

He frowned, looking very worried for her. "You've never been involved in anything like this before, have you?"

"Of course not! Who has?" As she spoke the words, she remembered what Brenda had talked about earlier, and listened hard when Peter replied.

"Annette. What we are doing here… We're going to see incredible things. Meet… very dangerous enemies, we already have. No one was really sure, but it was always possible. It's… some of us _have_ done this kind of thing before… We just didn't know if Atlantis would be the same. Seems like it might be. I… you… I don't believe it! They didn't tell you everything, did they?" He was cross now, hands on hips, eyes thrown up in frustration. He took her arm lightly.

"Excuse us, please." He led her away from Vargas and the others, ignoring their puzzled looks.

She leant close in to him, whispering. "Peter, what are you talking about? You're scaring me."

"Tell me what you were told about the mission." He was deadly serious.

"Just, we were going to another galaxy, through the Stargate device, we might not be able to get back; hopefully find the city, be able to grow our own food and trade with alien cultures…We were going to need medicines at some point. Bound to. That's where I come in."

He held her hands tightly, glancing around anxiously at the happy party-goers. "Didn't they warn you about the dangers? The possible enemies we might find? Heavens sake, the SGC has been doing this kind of thing long enough." He now seemed to be talking to himself.

"Not really… only that we might not be able to get back." She wasn't scared, only puzzled.

He sighed, standing up straight, and looked down into her eyes. "Other galaxies are not safe places, Annette. You should have been told. Properly. We have enemies."

She laughed. "Well, Peter, it's a bit late now. That top Marine guy is already dead." She swallowed, nervously, all humour gone. She realised maybe she was scared after all. "Look, I really don't care. I mean, I do, but I came because I wanted to do something amazing. I don't think I expected to come to another galaxy and not face some kind of danger at some point. Please, don't worry. It's nobody's fault. I was nominated to come by two countries. Each one probably thought the other had told me everything I needed to know. I just want to do my job. And if I get to see you now and again, it'll make it all worthwhile." She squeezed his hands, and smiled. "OK?"

He relaxed visibly, but his face fell, as a thought seemed to occur to him. "Oh, dear. It's just terrible, really. I mean, would you have come…?"

"Peter. Shut up." She placed a finger over his lips.

With wide eyes, Grodin stopped talking.

She could see he was shaken by the events of the day, and imagining she had been coerced into come under some kind of false impression was clearly bothering him. She just wanted to put him at ease. "Don't worry, Peter. I think I know now what the score is. As long as you're in there, keeping this city going for us, I think we'll be fine. So, you do your job, and I'll do mine, OK?"

He nodded, forcing a smile.

"Good. Let's get some food, and you can tell me some of your tales." She put her arm though his, and led him back to the throng.

0o0o0

The next day, Annette made her way down to the Infirmary.

"Dr Beckett, you wanted to see me?" Annette hovered behind the Scottish doctor who seemed intent on his laptop screen, seated at one side of the room. She looked around the space, taking in the quiet activity of the nurses and other doctors.

Startled a little, Carson Beckett turned around. "Oh, Dr Dumais, there you are! Thanks for coming, lass. I thought I ought to meet you, make sure you're managing all right. I mean, I know Dr McKay is your boss, but it's me you'll be working with mostly, I'm sure." He got off his stool, and held out his hand, a grin on his face.

She shook his hand with enthusiasm. "I'm looking forward to it. I hope we can do some great work here."

Beckett looked around and made a sweeping motion with his hands. "Is there anything you need from the rest of the team? Just ask, we'd be glad to help."

She smiled gratefully. "I'll let you know. I must admit, everything looks very organised."

Beckett raised an eyebrow at her, and then gave her a broad smile. "Yes, I suppose it does. It's the way I like things – ship-shape." He paused for a moment, then continued, "So, you'll come and see me if you need some extra manpower, or want to discuss any of your projects?"

She nodded, "Aye, aye, Skip." If he liked things ship-shape, that made him the Captain.

She heard the sharp intake of breath sweeping the room, every eye on her. Glancing around, she could see the horror in their eyes. She wondered if she'd crossed some unseen line. Looking at Dr Beckett, she could only see amusement.

"Skip?" He chuckled. "Aye, I like that."

She smiled, letting out her own breath in relief. "Well, I'd better get back to my lab. Unless, perhaps you'd like to give me a tour of the infirmary and the other medical labs?" She asked hopefully.

"Of course. Why not? Follow me." He set off, and Annette tagged along, enjoying every moment.

* * *

**A/N:** In my own Carson history fic, the good doctor was in the Royal Navy! 'Skip' of course being a contraction of 'Skipper', the nickname of a Captain. 


	6. Fixed

**A/N:** Many thanks to **Keenir** for beta. Thanks everyone, for joining me on this journey. I'm not half so lonely as I thought I'd be! At last, she now meets McKay...

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"Oh, no!" Annette dejectedly removed the test tubes from her centrifuge. Somehow, the cycle hadn't run properly, and the samples were now ruined. Sighing, she tipped the contents into the waste disposal, and started to wash up.

"Hey!"

She turned around, hearing his voice.

"Peter! Hi! Oh, it's nice to see your face. I'm having a rough morning!" She dried her hands and came to meet him in the middle of the lab. They stood facing each other, smiling. "What can I do for you?"

He shrugged. "I just came by to see if you were settling in OK. What's up? Trouble with results?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Nothing so bad. I've been working on finds from around the city, plant samples, water samples, it's all wonderful. But, I broke a flask earlier. And now my centrifuge isn't working."

"I can send you over an engineer. They're pretty busy, but I'll tell them it's top priority."

"Thanks, Peter. But don't go giving me special privileges because I've never worked in a top-secret organisation before. Really, I'm having an incredible time; I wouldn't change anything."

He quirked his mouth in pleased surprise. "Good. That's good. I… anyway, I'd better go. I'll call Dr Zelenka for you. He'll fix it up in no time."

She gave him a little wave as he left her lab.

An hour later, Annette found herself greeting an engineer that nervously claimed to have been sent by Peter. He was about her height, with unruly mousy brown hair. His blue shirt was tucked into his pants, in a rumpled way.

As he spoke to her in his slightly stilted Eastern European accent, he adjusted his glasses. "Where is the centrifuge, please?" he was gripping his toolbox tightly with his other hand.

"Over here. I have no idea what went wrong. The cycle just didn't complete." She led him over to the far bench, and he began examining the unit.

She watched him working, as he mumbled to himself under his breath, in what she assumed was his native language.

"Where are you from?" she finally asked, her curiosity strong.

"Hm? Oh, I am from the Czech Republic. Sorry…" he looked up, as if a thought had occurred to him. "Radek Zelenka." He held out his hand.

She couldn't help but smile. "Annette Dumais. Pleasure." She shook his hand.

"I know." He looked down again, and continued to open the casing.

"Oh?" She had her eyebrows raised.

"Yes. Peter tells me all about you." He looked up at her, and winked.

She gasped. He was teasing her.

"Oh, yes. Much talking about you. He also teases Dr McKay with your nationality. Claims you rejected your adopted land. Dr McKay is most annoyed with this. It is very funny."

"Wait 'til I see that Peter Grodin! He knows Dr McKay is my boss! I'll be in trouble." She sighed, and pulled at her ponytail.

Dr Zelenka straightened up, letting his screwdriver rest on the bench. "Don't worry. McKay knows he is joking. The two of them thrive on these things. If you do your job well, Dr McKay would not care if you came from Toulouse or Timbuktu." He smiled at her, and she saw his eyes sparkle.

He returned to his work, replacing something inside the centrifuge. As he replaced the casing, he called her over.

"I think I may have solved the problem. You will call me if a calibration cycle does not work?" He put his tools back in his box.

"I will, thank you."

He nodded. "Well, I'd better go. I wish you well in your work, Dr Dumais. You are very important to all of us."

She blushed. "Thank you, Dr Zelenka. I'll remember that."

She busied herself preparing a trial run for the centrifuge, and in a short while was ready to set it going. Reloading it carefully, Annette got a bit of a fright when Dr Rodney McKay came storming into the lab.

"You! Where's Zelenka?" he was pointing at her, despite the fact she was the only person in the lab, and he had his voice raised, but there was no anger, only power.

She gulped. "Dr Zelenka? The engineer?"

"Yes, yes, the engineer. How many Zelenka's do you think we have? Where is he? Grodin said he might be here." His arms were crossed, his foot tapping impatiently.

"Um… He left already. Sorry. Fixed my centrifuge and went. That way." She pointed nervously.

McKay was screwing up his face a little and seemed to be staring at her.

"Are you Dr Dumais?" His search for the Czech was temporarily forgotten, it appeared.

"Yes. Annette Dumais. I'm the archaeo-ethno-pharmacologist. I believe you're my boss, technically." She smiled, noticing it was the first time her profession hadn't raised a reaction of any sort.

He was nodding. "Yes, yes, of course I will be."

But then, he frowned a little harder, as if trying to recall something important. His face transformed as he found what he was looking for in some deep part of his brain, and he pointed at her accusingly. "The plant person! Gave you to Kavanagh."

She nodded. "Yes. That's right. It's nice to meet you, Dr McKay."

Now that he had placed her and categorised her to his satisfaction, McKay's focus was back on the hunt for the engineer.

"Right, right. Whatever. Just…carry on. I'm… I need to find Zelenka." He gave her a random hand movement as a farewell, and disappeared.

"Well, he was fun." She smiled to herself, and got back to work.

* * *

**A/N:** Another early post as I'm away again the weekend...hope you enjoyed! 


	7. Plants

**Spoilers: Suspicion**

**A/N: **Thanks to **Keenir** for beta, what a star!

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Annette watched as the large man used the stylus to draw the crude picture on the touch screen. Dressed in a brown linen tunic, held in place by the thick leather belt, the Athosian was concentrating hard on his task. Occasionally he would scratch at this short beard, and mumble to himself.

Eventually, he handed back the stylus. "Yes. It looked like this. See, the leaves come out in pairs. Yes." He brow was furrowed, still trying to remember all the things she had asked about.

Annette beamed. "Thank you, Myro. I am most grateful. And you say that anyone who drank the tea would only sleep for a few hours?" Her eyes shone with fascination.

"Indeed." The man's attention was distracted for a moment as a young boy came hurtling into the room.

"Father! Father! Jinto and I want to go to the North Tower. Can we, father, please?"

The man took on a stern tone. "Wex. You should not have interrupted. We shall talk of this later." He sighed, his tone softening. "Yes, go, but try not to get into any trouble. Be back well in time for the evening meal." He reached out a large hand and gave his son a pat and a gentle shove to send him on his way.

"Sorry, father! Thank you!" Wex tore out of the room and disappeared as fast as he had arrived.

Myro sighed. "I apologise. My son is very excited to be here in the city of the Ancestors. But I am pleased he does not feel the pain of having to leave our world as I do."

Annette smiled, trying to imagine how hard it must be, to be an Athosian in the city. "Don't worry. The boys are no trouble, really."

"Dr McKay is not pleased at their presence."

"I understand Dr McKay is rarely pleased." She laughed lightly.

Darkness filled Myro's eyes, as he made the declaration. "We are going to leave the city. We want to live on the land that has been found on this world. It will be better for all of us."

Annette had heard the news of the landmass from Peter, and he'd also talked to her about the possibility of someone in the city being an informer for the Wraith. Despite the temporary curfew on the Athosians, she was shocked that these people wanted to leave the relative safety of Atlantis. She didn't realise it had become this bad.

"I am very sorry to hear that, Myro. I have been very privileged to ask you about your knowledge and customs. I shall miss you if you leave."

He nodded. "I, too, will be sorry. But we cannot stay where we are no longer welcome. It has been a pleasure helping you, Dr Dumais. Perhaps… if it is possible, you can come to our new settlement, and I can show you some of the remedies we use for our families."

Annette's eyes lit up. "Of course I would love to! That would be excellent. Thank you, Myro. It would be very sad if you do leave, but if that's what it comes to, then I really hope I can come and visit you."

0o0o0

The Scottish brogue of Dr Beckett reached her ears as she entered the infirmary. He was looking slightly exasperated as he propelled a surly-looking Dr McKay towards the exit.

"I'm sorry, Rodney, truly I am, but we just don't have much to spare. You'll just have to suffer. It's really not that bad, surely?"

"I can't work with a headache, Carson. Just an aspirin, is that too much to ask? It's not like I ask all the time. When was I last here with a headache, hmm? Usually I've been stunned or injured or something." McKay pleaded with his hands.

"Go on, get away with you. Come back in a couple of hours if rest doesn't get rid of it, then I'll think about it." With one last push, the Scot rid his infirmary of the disappointed Canadian. McKay showed no sigh of acknowledging Annette as he reluctantly headed out.

Leaning against the closed door, Beckett sighed and shut his eyes briefly. He opened them again and gave his attention to his new visitor.

"Sorry about that, lass. What can I do for you?"

Annette smiled. "Sorry to interrupt. Myro has contacted me from the mainland. He's found several useful plant species for their traditional remedies. He wonders if I want to go over and check them out."

Beckett grinned and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Oh, aye, that's grand, Annette. Well done, lass. On you go, just ask Peter to sort you out with a 'jumper and a pilot and so on. Will you need anything from me?"

She shook her head. "No, no, that's fine. Unless you want to come too? I'll probably go this afternoon, if I can get it arranged."

He suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. "No, no, it's all right. Just you handle it. I don't really want to go in one of those puddlejumper things yet. Not until I really have to, I suppose." He gulped nervously.

"I understand, Skip. It's no problem." she grinned - and winked at him - as she turned to leave. She could hear his chuckle as she headed for the control room.

Peter quickly contacted Miller when she made her request. He spoke to the pilot, and arranged for him to take Annette to the mainland.

Turning in his chair, Peter told her what he'd arranged. "There, all set. Fourteen hundred hours. Right, have you time for lunch?"

"Great idea. I don't have any more preparation for my trip, it's all done."

"Can you wait for me? My replacement should be here any minute."

"Of course."

She didn't have to wait long, as the Canadian was just arriving. She watched from the top of the stairs, as Peter gave the sergeant a thorough handover, and seemed to explain something in more detail in response to a question from his colleague. Once Peter was satisfied everything was covered, and got plenty of affirmative gestures, he joined Annette, and they headed down the stairs and made their way to the mess hall.

The two of them collected their food and were heading towards the free tables, when an accented voice called them.

"Peter, Dr Dumais, you should join us." Radek Zelenka was waving them across to his table, where he sat with an oblivious Rodney McKay.

Exchanging glances and nods, Peter and Annette sat with the two men.

"You found him then, Dr McKay?" Annette asked the astrophysicist.

He looked up from his meal and took in her appearance, as if mentally placing her. "Right. Yes, I did. And here we are."

She chuckled, and turned to Zelenka. "Thank you again, Dr Zelenka, my centrifuge is working perfectly."

"It's Radek. And please, it was nothing. Anytime." He gave her a shy smile.

McKay surprised them all by putting down his fork and saying, "So, Dr Dumais. How come you're not wearing the maple leaf?"

She grinned. "Ah. Peter told you. Well. Let's just say they knew you were coming, and didn't need another Canadian genius. I decided to come under my French nationality to spare you the competition." She laughed as the Chief of Science paled for a moment.

"Hey! What…?" he slumped a little. "Oh, very funny." He gave her a quirky smile, and pointed a finger at her. "I like your style, Dumais. But leave the genius stuff to me, OK?"

"Yes sir, boss." She grinned back, and glanced across to Peter, who rolled his eyes.

Radek began quizzing Peter about data compression methods, and McKay told them they were 'wasting their breath, my way's gonna work much better' and chose to ignore them thereafter, instead turning to Annette. He asked her more about how she found herself in Atlantis under the French flag. She enjoyed sharing a bit of her background, laughing at his amusing comments about her Canadian upbringing and French parentage.

The Chief of Science laid his hands on the table. "Well, it's been nice, Dumais, finding out you're French and Canadian, not French-Canadian. But Radek and I need to go. And don't keep Miller waiting."

"I won't, Dr McKay." She watched as he hurried the Czech along, and he and Radek left the mess together.

Peter muttered after them. "That man is insufferable sometimes."

Annette nudged him in the ribs. "Don't be like that. I bet you think he's brilliant. And I like him, he's… interesting."

"Yes, quite." Peter mumbled.

Finishing up their lunch, Peter checked if Annette needed anything else for her trip to the mainland.

"I'm all set, Peter."

"You will… take care, won't you?"

"Peter, don't worry, I'll be fine. You worry too much." She stood up, and they deposited their trays before heading out into the corridor.

Peter glanced about, seeing no else was around, and took hold of her hand. "Annette. When you get back, will you come and see me? We could have dinner together… I think I'd like to know you are OK." His anxious eyes betrayed his fears.

She'd spoken to Peter most days since they arrived a few months ago. He was funny - his dry wit always making her laugh. Knowing he was there to help her when she ran into a problem had been great. His big brown eyes on her had always made her feel special. This was good.

"Sure. Why not? I'd hate for you to miss me too much." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he covered the side of his face with his hand.

Leaving him with a pleased and bemused expression on his face, she went to load the 'jumper for her trip.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading, I really appreciate the company! A little kiss at last... ;)  



	8. Success

**Spoilers: Poisoning the Well**

**A/N: **Grateful thanks to** Keenir **for beta, especially for surviving the mush in this chapter ;). Apologies for the long delay in updating, I'm back from holidays now! Normal service is now resumed. Thanks for all your reviews, I'll send replies very soon.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

It was very late when Annette returned from the mainland with Miller. Rain had delayed their departure, and he had been worried about landing in the city in the dark. However, the automatic pilot had taken over without a hitch and they'd soon been safely back in the jumper bay.

Gathering up her samples, Annette accompanied the pilot as they headed towards the Control Room.

"Thanks, Miller. I appreciate you taking me across. Sorry we've ended up being so late - the rain kind of threw off our schedule, didn't it?"

"Not your fault, Dr Dumais. Just let me know anytime you want a pilot."

"I will, thanks." She stopped at the foot of the stairs, and watched him carry on through the Control Room and down into the city.

She approached the Canadian sergeant manning the main console. Annette wondered if perhaps Peter had left a message for her.

"Excuse me, do you know where Peter Grodin is? I was supposed to meet him, but you know how late we are."

The sergeant flashed her a knowing grin, and waved his coffee cup in a direction behind her. She turned around, to see Peter slumped down in one of the chairs off in the shadows. She had to smile.

The sergeant explained, unable to keep the smile from his voice. "He waited for you. Finally fell asleep as he's been up since oh-five-hundred."

"Oh dear. I suppose I'd better wake him. He'll get cramp if he sits there any longer."

Crouching down by the chair, Annette gave Peter a little shake. He shifted, and blinked, eventually regaining conscious thought.

"Annette?"

"Yes, Peter. Sorry to wake you. I'm back. Come on, you can't sit here all night."

He propped himself up, and rubbed his hands over his face. "Oh, thank goodness. I was getting frantic, until I fell asleep that is." He gave her a sheepish grin.

She wrapped her arms around his arm closest to her, and leaned in close. "Peter, for the last time, stop worrying about me. Now, are you coming with me to the mess, or what? I'm desperate for some proper supper."

Peter nodded, and stiffly stood up. He addressed the Canadian. "Thanks, Sergeant - if you need any help during the night, just call me, OK?"

"Yes sir, Dr Grodin."

0o0o0

After some supper, Annette and Peter headed towards her quarters. They stopped outside her door, joking and laughing. Peter took Annette's hand, and pulled her close, gently grasping her around the waist with his other hand.

"I think you're wonderful, Annette Dumais."

Her heart was beating fast as she tried to think of something to say. "Thank you, Peter Grodin. I find you very attractive also."

He placed a hand on her cheek, and looked deep into her eyes. "Annette. Let me care about you."

She nodded, whispering, "I think I'd like that."

"Good. But first, I think I want to kiss you." His accent was drawing her in, closer, closer, until their lips met. He kissed her gently but passionately. When they drew apart a little, he put his forehead against hers.

"I'm glad you came, Annette. I don't care which flag you wear."

She grinned. "Good. As long as you don't tease my boss too much, that's OK."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'll try. But it's so enjoyable finding things to annoy Rodney with. I can't help it."

"You'd better make it up to me then." She kissed him quickly.

"I'll look forward to that." he whispered against her lips.

0o0o0

"Yes!" She punched the air as she leapt off her stool. "I did it!"

Annette Dumais clapped her hands together as she left the lab, excitement on her face.

She hurried into the infirmary. Not seeing Dr Beckett, she made for his office door, and peered in.

"Carson? It's me, Annette."

"Come in, lass." Beckett sounded quiet and flat. He stood up from his desk, and came around to meet her as she entered his office. His hands were thrust deep in his labcoat pockets, his eyes had dark rings around them.

Her excitement was deflated by seeing Beckett clearly so unhappy. "Carson?" It had only been a week since the death of Perna and the other Hoffans. She knew he'd talked to Peter and Radek about it, maybe even Heightmeyer. She'd just not seen it for herself. He was obviously distraught inside.

"What can I do for you, Annette?"

"Maybe it's what I can do for you, Carson. Hopefully some good news will help?"

He looked at her with sad eyes. "Aye, lass. Maybe it will. Good news you say? Come on, then, what have you been up to?" A little spark of interest lifted his mood a fraction, and it warmed Annette to see it.

"Oh, Carson, wait until you see! One of the samples I got from Myro, I've finally cracked it! I know it seemed to take a long time, but we've done it, Carson. I've been able to reproduce it: the non-steroidal compound! The Pegasus version of aspirin, only it's definitely got selectivity, and even an effect on G protein!"

Carson was blinking, grinning, and wringing his hands excitedly. "Aw, Annette, that's brilliant, lass. Well done." He reached out and patted her shoulder. "It's ready for testing?"

"Yes! That's why I'm here. Completed the prelims. All ready to go. As you know, there's no shortage of the tree that Myro identified, so if it's successful, we've got ourselves an unlimited supply of analgesia. Maybe one with only a few minor side-effects, and possibly dose-related efficacy!"

"Oh, that's grand. Come on, show me what you've got." Carson grabbed his datapad, and hustled her out the door, eager to get to her lab.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. In case you were wondering, I think we're about halfway through the journey now... 


	9. Lovely and Talented

**A/N:** McKay might be the king of sarcasm, but I really think he was serious when he called Dumais 'lovely and talented' in Hot Zone. This is why I think he called her that ;)

Many thanks to **Keenir** for beta.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Peter was in the Control Room, assisting the team who were translating portions of the Ancient database, when McKay called him on the radio.

"_Grodin? It's me. Get down here. I want you to help me with the Control Chair."_

Rolling his eyes, the Brit answered, "Rodney? What are you working on? I'm in the middle of something here." He could see the virtual daggers coming at him in his mind.

"_Well, I need you with me. So wrap it up, give it over to Sergeant Canada or something, just be down here in the next five minutes."_

Peter hadn't expected anything less. He let his colleague take over the database transfer, and almost ran down to the Chair room. Working with McKay might be compulsory, but it was also exhilarating, and always productive.

Bowling into the room, Peter spotted McKay crouched near the underside panel of the Chair. The astrophysicist was squinting and grimacing with concentration.

Without breaking off to look at the arrival, McKay spoke to Peter. "Lets get to work. I need you to set this up for me."

For the next hour, McKay and Peter had worked out several interface options between the Chair and their own systems, opening up multiple possibilities for learning about the city defence capability. They finally took a short break, 'so I don't get hypoglycaemic' claimed McKay, but Peter knew the Chief was aware that they could both do with a break.

"How much more should we try to do today?" Peter asked.

"Tired, Grodin? You need more stamina. Giving you that deputy has made you soft. You should work double shifts like you did in the beginning." McKay tore a power bar in half with his teeth.

Peter winced at the eating habits of his boss. "Yes, well, I know you're trying to say I'm the only one who can do my job, so thanks. I can work as long as you, only… well, I would have to let someone know where I am, if we are going to be very late." He peered at McKay, gauging his reaction.

The Canadian blinked, and looked straight at Peter. "Someone? You've got a date?"

Peter nodded. "I suppose so, actually, yes."

McKay smirked. "Not that tall geologist? No! Wait. The redhead nurse! Right?"

Peter shook his head. "No. Annette."

"Dumais? But she's… nice."

Peter was puzzled. "Yes? So?"

McKay looked embarrassed for a moment. "Well, I'm just saying. She's not exactly… what I mean is, there are certain members of our team that are… well, hot. Not that I'm saying Dumais isn't hot, it's just, well, she's not the hottest, I suppose. I'd say she was more… lovely." He trailed off, perhaps sensing his hole was deep enough.

Peter shrugged. "I think she's hot. And not just your kind of hot either. She's smart, and she likes me. Know what? You're right. She is lovely."

McKay gave a sort of snort. "Huh. Well, I guess you know more about these things. I never seem to pick the right girl to carry a flame for. They never seem to think I'm hot."

Peter gave McKay a friendly slap on the back. "Never mind, Rodney. I think you'll find you have a few fans, if you cared to look."

"Really?"

"No."

"Call Dumais. We're gonna be here all night."

0o0o0

Rodney McKay sloped into the infirmary, his face twisted with discomfort. He hopped onto an empty bed, and hollered, "Carson!"

Beckett came wandering out of his office. His senior nurse was halfway to McKay already, a look of thunder in her eyes, but Beckett waved her away.

"It's all right. I'll deal with him this time."

McKay complained, "Deal with him? This time? You people have no sympathy for my symptoms." He pouted.

"Rodney. What can I do for you today?" Beckett smiled as he watched his nurse walk off.

"A headache, Carson. It's all this alien food. It gives me headaches sometimes. Please, I need painkillers, now. I have a dozen projects in the…"

"Aye, OK, Rodney." Beckett interjected, and turned towards the dispensary.

"What?" McKay sputtered, "Yes? I can have some? First visit?"

Beckett turned around. "Aye. First visit. Dr Dumais has developed our own local version of the analgesic Holy Grail. Good for everything from headaches to amputations…" he raised an eyebrow as McKay blanched, "and an infinite supply at our doorstep. It's bloody brilliant. We've started safety tests and everything looks good."

"Safety? You want to give me some untested alien drug?" McKay asked, subdued and sceptical.

Beckett sighed. "We've nothing left from Earth for your headache, Rodney. You can try this if you like. We've had no trouble so far. I get enough of your blood to pick up any problems. Take it or leave it." The Scottish doctor had learned that McKay was best treated with honesty and abruptness. He reserved his tiptoe tactics for other people.

McKay looked down at his hands, thinking. He absently rubbed at his temple. "Dumais, you say?"

"Yes, Rodney. She developed it from mainland plant material. It's her field. She's done marvels."

McKay licked his lips, thinking. After a few moments, he said, "OK. I'm game, I guess. I need relief, just hand over the pills, capsules, whatever."

Beckett grinned, and nodded. "I'll go and get them, Rodney."

Two hours later, Peter and Annette were surprised to find McKay rush into the mess hall, spot them, and come hurrying across to them.

"Oh, good, I'm glad you're here, Peter. I'd hate for you to hear this secondhand."

McKay held Annette's shoulders and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. Peter's mouth hung open in shock.

McKay gave her a crooked smile. "Annette Dumais, you are a lovely creature, and as talented as the day is long."

Annette looked across at Peter, McKay still holding her shoulders, and asked the Brit, "What is he talking about?"

"I don't know," replied Peter gruffly, "but he'd better explain himself jolly fast or I'll have something to say."

"Your painkiller!" McKay said brightly. "It was brilliant. It's the best thing that's happened since… well, since we shut down Teyla's transmitter."

Annette beamed. "Thank you, Rodney. That is a really sweet compliment, and I'm glad I can be of service."

McKay stood up straight, a smug smile on his face. "See, Grodin? I can be very charming when I want to be."

Peter put his head in his hands. "Oh Lord, spare us."

Annette just laughed.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! 


	10. Overcome

**Spoilers: Underground, The Storm, The Eye**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Ten**

Peter looked over the sergeant's shoulder, and nodded. "Yes, like that. Now test the Stargate shield integrity." He reached across and pointed to a glowing area of the console.

"I know, I know, " insisted the Canadian, frowning hard with concentration.

"Make sure the interface stays engaged." The civilian scientist watched as his military colleague worked the controls. "Right. You've got it." There was a hint of pride in Peter's voice.

Grodin stood upright and let the sergeant finish the diagnostic sequence without further prompts.

"Sir?" The sergeant turned to face Peter when he'd finished, and asked tentatively, "What we learned from the database today… about the Hive ships. What are we going to do about that?"

Peter sighed. "Twenty-one Hive ships in this quarter of the galaxy? I'm not entirely certain there is anything we can do. We need a ZedPM, that's for sure."

"Gentlemen." The voice of Dr Elizabeth Weir addressing them had the Canadian sergeant trying to snap to attention, despite his seated position.

"Ma'am."

Weir offered him a benevolent smile as she reached the top of the stairs, accompanied by Annette Dumais.

"Perhaps, Annette, you could tell me more about the dig at Charras at some point? I find your work fascinating."

"Thank you, Dr Weir. I'd enjoy that."

"It's Elizabeth, please. Right, I've got the senior staff meeting in five minutes." She leaned towards Annette conspiratorially. "Don't keep Peter up too late. He's on first shift tomorrow." She gave Peter her best look, with one eyebrow raised, and headed for her office before the Brit could form a retort.

"Ready?" Annette asked Peter, smiling at his gaping expression.

Composing himself, Peter glanced over at his colleague, who sensed the unspoken question.

"I've got it covered, Dr Grodin."

Peter nodded, his face grim, and put his hand on Annette's back to guide her away from the control room.

"Is everything all right, Peter?" Annette asked. She detected an air of seriousness in him, an unease that made her feel concerned. He wasn't forthcoming with an answer, still looking troubled, so she waited until they were beyond the sliding doors into the corridor. "Is it the Sergeant? He's managing OK, isn't he?"

Peter looked puzzled for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, he's brilliant. It's not that. I… thing is…" he sighed, "We found some information today. It's rather worrying, to say the least." He stopped, in the middle of the corridor, head down.

Annette stood in front of him, encircling him with her arms, and looking up into his eyes. "Tell me, Peter. What is it?"

"The Wraith, Annette. They're going to find us. There will be no escape."

"I don't understand, Peter." She cupped the side of his face in her hand. "What's happened?"

"There are thousands of them, perhaps millions. One day… they're going to come. There's no doubt… Annette, I'm scared."

She stroked his cheek. "Shhh. It'll be OK. You'll think of something - you, McKay, Zelenka. You'll see."

He leaned down and put his forehead on hers. "I hope so. I wish… I just wish you didn't have to see that day."

She kissed him. "Hey. I'm here now, and I wouldn't want to change that. Meeting you… it's been the best thing ever." She smiled, keeping his gaze. "Come on. Let's see how late I can keep you up." Her teasing kiss had him laughing, as she took his hand and pulled him towards the living quarters.

0o0o0

"It's only until the storm passes. I'm sure Rodney's plan will work." Peter grabbed her bag and accompanied Annette to the 'gate. They walked quickly, nervous.

"When will you come?" There was a shake in her voice.

"As soon as Elizabeth says I can go. Rodney and Radek have it all worked out. Don't worry. I'll be with you long before the storm hits. They're still evacuating the mainland as well. I'm just worried about leaving those three behind, that's all." He was referring to Dr Weir, Major Sheppard, and Dr McKay, who were to execute the plan to save the city from the coming storm.

Annette nodded. They could hear the voices as they approached the 'gateroom. There was an anxious buzz in the atrium, everyone sorting their gear and preparing to move out.

Annette and Peter spotted Vargas and joined him. "Is that all the Engineering Department away?" Peter asked.

The Spaniard nodded. "Yes. All except for Radek."

"Good. Good. Listen… José. I want you to look after Annette for me, please?" His eyes bored into his friend, willing him to hear the words he wasn't saying - 'In case I don't make it.'

Vargas gulped. "I will, Peter, you know I will." He glanced at Annette, who was pulling up her jacket zip with some determination.

Peter turned to Annette, and took her by the shoulders. "Stay close to José, and I'll be with you as soon as I can."

She returned his fearful gaze, and nodded. "McKay will make it work, you know that."

"Yes, I think so. I suppose we all just have to trust he'll pull it off."

Peter squeezed her hand, and let her go to stand with the others waiting to go through the 'gate. He watched from the control room balcony as she left the storm-threatened city.

0o0o0

There was a jubilant mood as everyone returned to Atlantis after the passing of the storm. Despite the ignobility of being temporary hostages, everyone shrugged that off when they heard the tale of the shield and the routing of the Genii. Peter had obtained a bottle of Zelenka's best distillation product, and he and Annette had shared a quiet drink in celebration. Then a walk to the north pier was deemed to be in order.

She was running, laughing. Her dark ponytail swung wildly, as she bounced to a stop, grabbing a pillar and peering from behind it, her breath coming in short gasps, between giggles.

"Annette Dumais? Get back here!" Peter's playful voice echoed down the corridor.

"Catch me first!" she laughed, and slipped further into the shadows.

She walked sideways, her back against the wall, glancing from side to side, her mouth open to fill her lungs. She couldn't even hear Peter now, and it was quite gloomy in this section. After a few moments in the silence, she found herself anxious. "Peter?"

Her heart was in her mouth when a door to her left slid open with an abrupt whoosh. She froze, as a dark figure grabbed at her. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back a scream.

A deep English voice whispered in her ear. "I don't want you out of my sight again." Peter pressed his lips to hers, and leaned into her in an embrace against the wall.

She let herself be caught up in the passion, allowing his warmth and weight to envelop her. As their lips parted, she murmured, "Oh. That's nice, Peter. I'm so glad I let you take care of me." She could feel his grin against her cheek.

They found themselves standing at the end of the north pier, looking up at the stars in the velvety dark sky. Peter took his arm away from her waist, and drew a small box from his pocket. She watched him carefully as he blinked nervously at her. He took the worn purple leather box and opened it. Inside, a plain gold band sat proud.

"It's my mother's," he whispered.

She swallowed anxiously.

"I know it's not really an engagement ring, but… Annette, I'd like to think we'll marry one day. I… I love you. I think you know that. Please, take it?"

She could feel her heart thumping. "Peter. I… I don't know what to say. I love you, too. More than you could ever imagine." She reached out and touched the band. She smiled broadly as she had an idea.

"Peter, I wonder…? I know it's not exactly the usual thing, but… how about I wear it on this hand…" She carefully took the gold band, and slipped it onto her right hand ring finger. It fitted perfectly. She leaned in and kissed him.

He nodded, smiling. "Why not? That's perfect. And one day… one day we'll be able to put it on the proper finger."

* * *

**A/N:** Next time, we'll be hitting Hot Zone at last... 


	11. Order

**A/N: Many thanks to Keenir for beta; and an appearance from Miko in Keenir's honour :D**

**(About the ring… if you look in Hot Zone, Dumais is wearing a ring on her right hand. I felt I had to do something about that, sadly.)**

**Spoilers: Letters from Pegasus, Hot Zone**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eleven**

Annette was heading back to her lab after dinner when she came across a strange scene. Miko was kicking at the wall, and making little shrieking sounds. Annette halted a few feet away, watching the young woman repeatedly thumping the wall with her foot and punching the air in frustration.

"Miko?"

"Aiiee!" Miko seemed to ignore Annette, and just gave another scream, jumping up and down, her fists tight. "That dumb man!"

Annette frowned. "What man? What's happened?"

"Dr Kavanagh! What a fool! I would send him to a gas giant if I could!" she said, and then let out a funny little yelp.

"What's he done now, Miko? It can't be so bad."

Miko launched into a heated explanation, her hands clapping together nervously. "I just had an argument with him. He said Dr McKay is continually putting the city in danger, or failing to exploit opportunities to find weapons against the Wraith. What does he know? Dr McKay is the one who goes through the Stargate. He is the one who risks his life every day…" Miko began to sniff and her face crumpled as she fumbled in her pocket for a Kleenex.

Annette put her arm around Miko's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Hey, its OK. Don't pay any attention to him. Dr Kavanagh's just scared, I think. We've been pretty lucky so far. I mean, look at us! If Dr McKay hadn't got the shield working, and we hadn't had advance warning of the storm, the city would have been destroyed. You and I know what Dr McKay and the others do every day to keep us safe. We don't need to listen to Dr Kavanagh. Just put it down to fear, and forget it."

Miko sighed, relaxing a little. She looked up shyly, and smiled. "I am sorry, Dr Dumais. Thank you for comforting me."

"Hey, don't apologise. Just you feel free to kick a wall whenever you feel like it. But I advise you not to do the same to Dr Kavanagh. It might make him cry." She smiled.

Miko laughed. "Oh, you are right! It would explain much if he was scared about what we come across every day in this galaxy. In fact, he often looks quite fearful." She frowned, thinking about it. "Dr McKay also shows his fear, sometimes. I can see it on his face. But it never keeps him from his duty. I think he is very brave, and I am privileged to assist him. I do my very best, because I know he likes the work done well."

Annette nodded. "Yes, he is a very brave man. There are many brave people in this city, and you are one of them. I suppose there might be as many dangers here in Atlantis as there are through the Stargate. Now come on, let's go and make that coffee. I'm thinking you were about to go and make some for Dr McKay, am I right?"

Miko smiled. "Yes, yes I was. How did you know?"

0o0o0

The coffee was strong and hot, just perfect. It would keep her awake long enough to round off her day with some paperwork catch-up. She wondered how long the rationed supply of the precious beverage would last. Not much was left of anything from the original stores after nine months, and they had yet to find anything resembling a coffee bean. Or a cocoa bean, come to think of it.

Her work had managed to bolster Beckett's dispensary with medicinal products for every minor ailment they could think of. With a little hard work she'd also managed to develop several cytotoxic compounds for treating cancers. When Stackhouse had reported to Beckett that the people on a world they'd visited could cure tumours, Beckett had asked Annette to isolate the drugs from the plant matter. It was a boost to the pharmaceutical armoury that Beckett had seemed particularly keen on, although they all hoped they wouldn't need those particular products. She figured Beckett must have been also thinking of the Genii and their cancer risk from exposure to high levels of radiation, not just what could befall any member of the expedition. It was a mystery to her that he could think like that in spite of what the Genii had done.

Her computer linked to the network, and she opened her e-mail. She clicked immediately on the urgent message from Dr McKay. She smiled as she thought of the grumbles that his all-in-capitals missive would cause among his team. He was amazing, he really was.

It was a request, or rather an order, for all science personnel to report to the east pier entrance first thing in the morning. McKay had arranged a full schedule of damage assessment after the storm flooding. A twelve-hour shift - he probably figured it was better to get it over and done with in one day. She scanned the distribution list. It had been sent to every member of staff McKay supervised, from anthropologist to zoologist. She smiled. McKay obviously needed all hands on deck. It was a huge pier, and even twelve hours didn't seem long enough to complete the task. Looked like she couldn't get out of it. She wasn't sure she minded anyway. It would at least make a change from squinting down her microscope at seedpods, as she'd had planned.

Deciding she needed an early night to match the early start in the morning, she shut down her computer. The paperwork could wait until tomorrow night. As she made to close the laptop, she looked down at the ring Peter had given her. It had belonged to his late mother; brought with him as a precious reminder of times and places he knew or thought he would never see again. Now she was his family, and he was hers. There was something that connected them that she realised she hadn't quite figured out yet. It just felt like they were joined by fate. Smiling, she headed for bed, knowing it would be a long day tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: **Ah, yes, it's a long day ahead ;) 


	12. 0600 to 1700

**Spoilers: Hot Zone**

**A/N: **Many thanks to** Keenir **for beta.

Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter, thanks to everyone who's still with me! I'd hate to be as lonely as... well, anyway...

I have based the nanovirus timescale on the assumption that McKay is rarely wrong. You got problem? You see him ;)

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

She slipped on one of her blue tops, and grabbed her brush, quickly trying to fix her ponytail. For some reason, her alarm hadn't woken her, and she was a few minutes late. She'd hoped to make a detour to the Control Room to see Peter, but there wasn't time now, not unless she wanted to give McKay a reason to exercise his sarcasm.

There wasn't a soul in the hallways beyond the central accommodations. It got colder and more damp as she reached the main link corridor to the east pier. Hearing the murmur of voices up ahead, she paused for a moment to catch her breath. At least they hadn't started yet, she thought thankfully, and calmly made her way into the throng of waiting scientists.

Spotting Radek sitting in the centre of the group, hunched over his computer, she walked up to him, to find out what was happening. Zelenka greeted her with some puzzlement. "Annette? What are you doing here?"

Annette adjusted the bag on her shoulder, shivering as she looked around her at the eerie chamber. "McKay is my boss, remember? 'Flood damage assessment, east pier, all scientists.' That's me. It's creepy down here, isn't it?"

Zelenka kept typing, different schematics appearing on the screen. "I forget Rodney is your boss. We all do. I think Carson sees you as his."

"Yeah, well, I'm Peter's now, so you can all keep your hands off." She laughed, and Radek laughed with her.

McKay came over to stand by them. "OK, guys and gals. Is everyone here?" The Chief of Science rubbed his hands together.

Zelenka spoke. "Yes, Rodney. I have allocated everyone their search coordinates. You are with Hays. Oh, all except Annette, I was not expecting her."

McKay looked at her, a huge smile on his face. "You gorgeous girl! You never forget your real master, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Give me a break, McKay! Let's just say I do my duty. Radek, I'll be fine on my own. You have any rooms left over?"

Zelenka studied his screen. "Yes, yes, one last sector. Good, thank you, we will cover the whole pier now, if everyone completes their allocation. We will all be around so you won't really be alone. I am with Ford, we will meet up with you later."

"Right. Let's get started then." Annette pulled out her datapad and started to copy her search coordinates from Zelenka.

McKay frowned. "I say that bit!" He raised his voice to the assembled scientists and Marines. "OK, let's get started, people." The staff looked at him, and McKay rolled his eyes. "What are you still standing here for? Get going, or we'll never get this pier searched. Be good. We meet back here in twelve hours. I know it's a long day, but this is a long pier, so just go." He made rapid shooing gestures with his hands. The crowd dispersed reluctantly to begin their task.

Zelenka gave Annette two scanning devices that would detect any structural damage to the frame of the building. She had never had to use them before, so he showed her how to use them, and how to input the readings into her datapad. Annette aligned her search pattern with the positioning function on her datapad that allowed every team member to be tracked, and set off. Her first port of call would be a set of rooms in a small extension halfway along the pier.

She made her way alone down the corridor. The emergency lighting was a dim green, making the damp air seem even more oppressive. She gulped hard, and marched on with determination.

Reaching the first room on her list, she examined the door panel. Everything seemed intact, and she connected her datapad with an interface cable to override the lock. The door slid open a little reluctantly. Once again, only the secondary lighting system was functioning here, so she switched on her flashlight, and cautiously stepped inside.

The room seemed completely undamaged. Her equipment confirmed that, and she uploaded the scans as Radek had shown her. After completing her survey of this room, she realised she hadn't had breakfast, and was now starving. Annette decided it was time for a break. She seated herself at a lifeless console and pulled a drink and powerbar out of her bag. She wondered what Peter was doing, and what was going on in the Control Room.

As she sat eating her excuse for a breakfast, she heard her radio click.

"_Annette? It's Peter. Are you there?"_ his British voice was like music to her ears.

"Peter? Hey, you shouldn't be calling me! Don't you have to keep this frequency clear or something?" She wondered if Elizabeth knew he was contacting her, surely he must have a reason.

"_I know. Best keep it brief, but I wanted to say hello. I realised you must have run out of time to stop by earlier. I thought you might have time to have a chat."_

She blinked. "A chat? Peter, I'm working! We're up to our eyes in damp, smelly rooms. I'm sorry I missed you this morning. I slept in, if you must know." She smiled softly as her expression softened. "Sorry, Peter. It's just a bit spooky down here, and the prospect of spending another eleven hours down here isn't much fun… You know I miss you too. Thanks for calling me. And maybe we can spend some time together tomorrow. I won't be working."

"_Yes, that would be great. Please take care down there, and I hope Radek is taking good care of you. See you later, OK?"_

"OK. Love you."

"_Love you too."_

The radio clicked off, and she closed up her bag ready to move on.

As she exited the room, she found herself in the corridor with Suzanne Johnson and Phil Wagner. After listening to their mild cursing of McKay for making them spend an entire day wandering smelly piers, Annette asked them if they'd actually found anything interesting so far.

The two of them had started to search some rooms on the north face of the east pier, which had borne the brunt of the storm damage. Wagner described a whole series of laboratories that had been trashed. Not much structural damage fortunately, just the power was out and the contents of the room in pieces. Fascinating, he'd said, and couldn't wait to get back in there to do some proper research into what they'd found.

Suzanne and Phil had the rest of their northern sector to search, and Annette was still heading into the southern pier extension. They exchanged farewells and Wagner expressed a hope that they would meet up after the long day was over, hopefully for a nightcap at Radek's.

The next six rooms of the southern extension were mind-numbingly empty and structurally sound, every single one of them. If it hadn't been for the occasional ten thousand year old plant to identify and sample, she would have been bored to death. Annette was beginning to flag, and she was a bit lonely once more. She was grateful to hear the voice of Dr McKay echoing in the main hallway. She popped her head out of the door, and saw Hays and McKay coming towards her.

"Dumais!" McKay called out. "How's it going?" he was unbearably cheery. She wondered if he was actually enjoying this eerie sojourn.

"Fine, Rodney. I have found precisely nothing of any note so far this morning. Oh, but I did meet Johnson and Wagner not that long ago. No significant structural failure, but they've found some interesting rooms on the north side."

"I knew it!" McKay cried. "There are some labs there that we haven't opened before."

"Yeah, Phil was pretty excited." Annette slipped her bag off her shoulder. "Anyone feel like a break?"

McKay grunted. "We've only got another…" he glanced at his watch, "…eight hours and twenty-one minutes to complete the assessment." He looked back up from his watch at Annette's face, and then at Hays. "Oh, all right. Just a quick one then."

0o0o0

Leaving McKay and Hays to argue who was going to be the one to lead the way down into the southern lower level, Annette headed along the corridor to the next room of her section. She set her concentration on examining the rooms, and found herself forgetting the time. Now that she was heading into the extension, she didn't expect to see a soul for most of the day. Each room was as cold and damp as the last, and just as sound.

0o0o0

Having completed her sweep of most of the ground floor rooms of the southern extension, she made her way to the stairwell. Halfway up the stairs she sat down to have her lunch. It was now about one o'clock in the afternoon.The cold MRE was as unpalatable as her breakfast, but she polished it off anyway. As she stood up to get going again, she had the briefest sensation someone was at the bottom of the stairs. She wondered if she'd seen someone, anyway.

"Hello?" She took a step down the stairs, slowly. "Rodney? Is that you?" Leaning over the rail, she could see right into the corridor. There wasn't anyone in sight. Shrugging, she figured maybe she stood up too quick. Turning around, she continued to the upper level. She estimated it would take her the rest of the afternoon to survey the upper floor. Once she'd done those rooms, she would head back down the far stairwell and work her way back through the extension until she rejoined the main corridor of the pier.

0o0o0

Late in the afternoon, she entered the penultimate chamber on the upper level. It was a hexagonal room, with blue and gold panelling. Quite beautiful, it reminded her of something from a medieval manuscript. She smiled, remembering her former life. It also occurred to her that what she had seen and done on Earth was merely a shadow of what she'd seen here in Atlantis. Looking at the ceiling, she suddenly saw a rush of darkness sweep the right side of her vision. She almost ducked in shock. Heart pounding, she backed up against the wall. There was just nothing there. Taking deep breaths, she blinked hard. What had that been? Was she so tired? She didn't feel that tired. It had been… like a ghost. Gulping, she shook herself mentally. Just feeling freaked out by being alone in a damp pier, she concluded. She checked her instruments. They were glowing comfortingly, quite normal. Letting out a deep breath, she left the chamber and moved on.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh, dear, it's almost home time. 


	13. 1700 to 1900

**Spoilers: Hot Zone**

**Warning: Character death**

**A/N: **Many thanks to** Keenir **for fast beta.  
Dialogue lifted from the episode is in **bold**. This just turned out at Chapter 13, and I'm not superstitious, but… well, here goes…

* * *

Around five o'clock in the afternoon, Annette entered the last room on the upper floor. It was used as a storage room, and perhaps because it was at the end of the extension, the force of the storm had gutted it. Water still sloshed around on the floor, lapping against the few remaining containers that were lying around randomly. The windows were broken, but she detected no structural defects in the walls. She contacted Zelenka on the radio. 

"Radek? It's Annette."

"_Go ahead, Annette. I'm listening."_ His tinny voice came over the radio.

She was very pleased to hear a friendly voice. "I'm in the upper level of the southern extension. In the storage room at the end."

There was a pause_. "Yes, I see you on screen."_

"Well, it's a mess. It needs a proper engineering assessment, I think. The instruments are showing it's safe, but you might want to get up here."

"_Yes, thank you, I will. Lieutenant Ford and I are heading your way, and I will take a look."_

"Should I wait for you?"

"_No. I know where it is. Please carry on. You must be almost finished that section."_

"OK, Radek….thanks…em…"

"_Is there something else, Annette?"_ He sounded concerned at her continued radio connection.

She quashed her fear and put it down to an active imagination. "No, nothing, Radek. Just… I wish this day was over, that's all."

"_Don't worry. It will all be done with soon enough. See you soon."_ The radio clicked off.

As Radek's voice died away in her head, Annette shivered. This pier was really starting to scare her. Her mind was playing tricks on her, but she knew it was only the damp and the fear. And her sense of smell was being strongly assaulted now. For some reason she found herself thinking about how, in medieval times, they thought that bad smells would make you ill. If the musty air in these rooms was any indicator, she felt sure a medieval monk would have checked into the infirmary after a long day like this. On the other hand, maybe this would have been normal for a medieval monk. Gathering up her gear, she headed for the stairs.

0o0o0

Unutterably relieved that the long day was almost at an end, Annette joined the others as everyone returned to the link chamber. The feeling of no longer being alone was momentarily overwhelming for her, and she leaned against a wall for support.

One by one they all transferred their search data into McKay's computer. The damage to the upper storage room seemed to be the most serious thatanyone had reported. Zelenka and Ford were chatting in one corner in the link chamber. The rest of the scientists were standing around, tired at the end of the long day. McKay was standing over his laptop, and called to Annette.

"Dumais? Here please." One finger beckoned.

She left her bag on the floor, and went over to stand at his shoulder, willing her brain to concentrate.

"Is this the chamber you asked Zelenka to take a look at?" McKay pointed to the screen.

"Yes, it is," she nodded. "Radek and Lieutenant Ford checked it over and said it was in no immediate danger of collapse or anything. Radek said he'd bring a team down tomorrow and make repairs."

"OK. Thanks."

She returned to fetch her bag. They had to be leaving any minute, really. At that moment, Dr Weir contacted McKay on the radio. Annette listened as he conveyed the good news of the day, even mentioning her by name, calling her 'lovely and talented'. She rolled her eyes. Create a simple analgesia and she had a friend for life. When McKay declared the day over, she sighed with relief. At last, hometime.

They were about to leave when Zelenka noticed that Wagner and Johnson hadn't returned. That was when the nightmare truly began.

When Suzanne Johnson died in Radek's arms, Annette thought her heart was going to leap right out of her ribcage. She was pretty terrified, but tried not to show it. Suzanne had been so _distressed_, and Phil was _dead_. And now Suzanne was _dead_. All of a sudden, being in Atlantis seemed like a bad idea after all. She just wanted Peter to hold onto. She just wanted to sit down in a corner and cry, but that wouldn't help anyone.

She vaguely remembered hearing McKay calling Carson to get a containment team down to where they were. She couldn't help wonder how they were all going to get out of this. The smell of damp seemed even stronger, and the chambers seemed greener and darker than they'd been all day. The shadows were pulsating, still scaring her. She just tried to breathe deeply, keep her eyes fixed on Radek, who stood nervously at one side, occasionally touching his glasses. If she could just stay close to Radek, maybe she would be fine. Peter had told Radek to look after her, hadn't he? She felt she could pull herself together after that thought.

Then they were walking, everyone trailing along a corridor together. Peterson was agitated, and protesting. She wished he would pipe down - things were bad enough without that guy losing it, and McKay knew what he was doing. Then they were hanging about outside a lab while McKay and Ford investigated.

She saw McKay poke his head back out into the corridor. He looked past her and caught Zelenka's eye.

"I think this is it, Radek. Viral lab. Place is a mess."

Zelenka stepped forward and peered into the lab past McKay. "Are you sure?"

McKay winced. "No, I'm not sure. But it seems like a good place to start. Just get in here and help me, I'm opening the database."

He disappeared, and Zelenka slipped inside the lab. Annette looked around at the terrified faces. She swallowed. "Come on, guys. Let's see if we can help." She slipped sideways through the half-open door and entered the sinister room.

Phil had been right, the lab was trashed. They all got to work, setting up their computers, interfacing with the Ancient system in the lab. Zelenka was trying to trace the movements of Suzanne and Phil. She'd met them very early this morning, but when had they been in this lab?

Zelenka looked closely at some equipment in the middle of the room. **"Any number of these smashed and open containers could have released the virus that killed Johnson and Wagner."**

Lieutenant Ford looked puzzled. **"And how would something like that survive for all these years?"**

An image of an Egyptian tomb flashed through Annette's mind, and she shivered. She offered her thought - **"Viruses can remain dormant for long periods."**

Zelenka nodded and crossed the room to stand by McKay. **"I'm hoping the answer will be found in the database."**

She just wished Peter was here. He'd be able to figure out the database better than anyone. But he was far from here, and if things got any worse, she knew he would have to do what he could to prevent the virus from spreading into the city. All she could do was…

With a deathly whisper, the apparition appeared, floating right above her. A ghoul with soulless eyes, it pulsed and throbbed menacingly. Her eyes grew wide, and her breath caught in her throat. It was taunting her, teasing her with gnashing of teeth. Her heart was pounding and she was unable to look away from the ghostly figure. Annette whimpered with fear, too terrified to suppress it.

She didn't hear McKay calling her.

"**Dumais. Dumais? …Dumais!"**

All she could do was protect herself with her hands. Her feet wouldn't move. Not until she saw the creatures all over Mike Peterson. Lizard-like hands and legs on scaly little wispy bodies the size of a fist, the ghoulish animals were clawing, grasping. They were spitting out ethereal slime as they moved, covering him with a gelatinous film, all over his head and arms, on his torso and legs. Their tiny claws glinted in the darkness. They were going to take out his eyes! Annette was no longer frozen to the spot, and rushed towards Mike, frantically trying to get them off him.

She brushed at the slime she saw, knowing if she didn't get it off it would burn him - **"It's all over you!"**

Mike balked in shock at what was she was doing. Why was she acting like this? Had she been seeing things like he had? **"Dumais? Dumais!"** trying to push her away.

Panicky thoughts raced through her mind. What was he doing? Didn't he know he was going to burn and be clawed to death? **"They're all over you! They're all over you!"**

She feels arms on her. They are taking her away from Mike. Mike is going to die. They won't let her help. And then – Oh God! The Pain. Her Head. She is screaming and it is the last thing she knows.

Zelenka holds Annette as she begins to shake and cry. He feels so helpless, just watching her as her body loses all control. She is making strange noises, and it scares him more than he has ever known. She is still moaning and then gives a scream. All he can think of is Peter, back in the Control Room, unaware that the woman he loves is going to die. Because Radek knows that she will surely die, just like Johnson and Wagner. They haven't figured out what this is yet, and she will die. He holds her tight, wishing he didn't have to.

And then she was gone.

* * *

**A/N:** Deep breath, everyone. Thanks to everyone who's reading, especially you brave reviewers! I remain grateful for your company on this terrible journey. We're not at the final destination yet, of course…maybe we need to see how Peter does now, and of course he has to get bumped off as well... Sorry about that. Only three more chapters, though. 


	14. 1900 to 2200

**Spoilers: Hot Zone**

**Warning: Character death**

**A/N:** Many thanks to **Keenir** for beta. Dialogue lifted from the episode is in **bold**. In my own little Stargate world, Dr Biro is called Melanie, which means 'dark'…

* * *

Zelenka could see the blood coming from her nose and mouth and ears. Knowing it was in vain, Zelenka checked for a pulse, but there was none. He looked up into McKay's ashen face and shook his head. He knew that, just as he was, McKay was wondering who will tell Peter. 

With Dumais dead, McKay felt the utter and desperate seriousness of what was happening here. If she – if Dumais – was dead, then it was real, and there is no escape. He spoke into his radio, he did not know who was listening - the medical team, Peter? He did not want to think about it.

"**Tell Beckett to pick up the pace – I've just lost another member of my team!**"

McKay could only think of the fact that Dumais was one of his. He was her boss. Not Carson, damn it. His! His responsibility.

0o0o0

Beckett squeezed his way into the lab wearing his Hazmat suit. His eyes took in the shattered glass and the shattered scientists. Spying McKay, he waddled over.

"Right, Rodney. Care to fill me in?" Carson almost fell backwards as McKay stepped right into his comfort zone.

McKay hissed, his staring eyes flicking from side to side, "Dumais is dead, Carson."

The blood drained from his extremities and Carson could hear his heart thumping with the effort. "Bloody hell."

McKay glanced around anxiously. "You've got Biro with you?"

"Aye, Mel's setting up the field station."

With a resigned shake of his head, the Canadian put his hands back on his computer. "Just go and find out how they died. I need to keep working."

"No you don't, lad. I need to check you over." Carson waved the end of his stethoscope at his friend.

0o0o0

Zelenka saw the medics lift the body of Dumais, and take her out into the hallway that led to the field station that Dr Biro was working in. After a moment's hesitation, he walked over to McKay. He spoke softly. "Rodney? Someone should tell Peter."

McKay looked at his friend. "_"Someone_"? You mean me?"

Zelenka looked away, swallowing hard.

McKay let his hands drop to his side. Under his breath he cursed. He reached out and touched Zelenka's arm. "If we tell him now… maybe it's better if we wait…?"

Zelenka shook his head. "Dr Biro is about to cut her open. We need to tell him _now_."

McKay closed his eyes. "Right. Right." He left the Czech standing alone, and took himself into a corner. He tapped his radio.

"Elizabeth," he spoke quietly.

"_Yes, Rodney?"_ Dr Weir sounded tense.

"Secure line." He only had to say the words; she wouldn't question him.

After the click, he continued, "Dumais died." He heard the gasp, then said, "Put Peter on."

"_Rodney…"_ she began, perhaps wanting to know more and tell him herself.

"Elizabeth, please."

There was silence for a few moments, and then the British voice came through.

"_Rodney?"_

McKay's mouth was as dry as sand... "Peter, I… damn. I'm so sorry, Peter." His voice as empty as a desert…

More silence. It seemed an eternity before Peter spoke.

"_Annette?"_

McKay had never heard her name spoken like that, and it wasn't an experience he ever wanted to repeat. "Sorry, Peter. I really am. Dr Biro…"

Peter interrupted him, _"You find out how to stop it, Rodney. You, Dr Biro, you all fix this."_

Peter's voice was throaty, and McKay's eyes pricked at the sound.

"I will, Peter. I need to go, I need to keep working." He cut himself off before he got to the part where he was sorry he was too late to save her.

It didn't seem long enough before McKay found out exactly what had killed her, and how to destroy it. He felt it was almost indecent, to know so quickly after it was too late for her.

0o0o0

"Peter, are you sure you don't want to go?" Dr Weir spoke quietly to him, as the technicians around them shut down the computers before they tried to kill the nanovirus with an EM pulse. "You can leave if you want. We can handle it."

Grodin shook his head. "Don't ask me again, Elizabeth. Stop asking. I need to be here. I need to be here for all of them." He touched the console. "There are things I know about the Ancient system that I haven't even shown the Sergeant yet." He looked across to the Canadian who was closing a laptop. "Once we're back in, who knows what might happen…?"

Weir nodded, tensely. "Thank you. Really. It means a lot." She squeezed his shoulder gently.

She tapped her radio to contact McKay. "**We're about through shutting down all the electronic gear we brought from Earth. We're still locked out of the Ancient controls, though. There's no way to power them down.**"

McKay's voice was heard. _"**Well, it's not gonna be necessary. Ancient technology works differently than ours. An EM pulse shouldn't have any long-lasting effect on them.**"_

Weir looked down at the seated Brit.

"**We're ready.**" Grodin was resolute.

She smiled, sadly. "**We're all set, Rodney.**"

0o0o0

Grodin realised he felt relief when the Ancient controls returned. He hadn't been aware he was capable of feeling anything right now. Annette was dead. But the city was no longer in danger. It had worked. The nanovirus was neutralised. Too late for Annette. Too late for him. But there was definitely relief. The Ancient system thrummed to life, and a familiar feeling gave Grodin a moment of comfort. He heard Elizabeth telling the team on the pier that they could return. A stab of pain in his heart reminded him that there was someone who would not be with them.

"Elizabeth?" It was a mere whisper that came out of his mouth.

"Peter?" Elizabeth came quickly to his side and leaned down close to him.

"I think I'd like to leave now." He couldn't meet her eyes.

"Of, course, Peter. I'm so sorry about Annette. You know… you know we're all here for you." She rubbed his arm gently.

"Thank you." He said flatly, and got up out of his chair. "I'm going down to the east pier, I think. Perhaps, if you would be so good as to ask the Sergeant to take over?"

"Yes, of course. Don't worry about that. You go, and I'll come and see you when I finish here, OK?"

Elizabeth watched as Grodin turned and left the Control Room. He hadn't really said whether it was OK or not, but she had half expected that. How could they lose Dumais? Why her?

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**A/N:** Thanks to everyone for reading. 


	15. Goodbye

**Spoilers: Poisoning the Well, Hot Zone**

**A/N: **Many, many thanks to** Keenir **for beta.

It's even more snippet-like from here on in. No point dwelling on the pain too much, it'll only depress us. Chin up folks ;)

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**Chapter Fifteen **

Carson straightened up and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He and McKay had pretty much got as much as they could from the nanovirus tonight. He watched the Canadian typing on the laptop, the only sound in the lab, with the two of them alone.

Carson swallowed. "She was bloody talented, you know."

McKay froze, fingers suspended above the keyboard. Then he let his hands fall silently, as his whole body slumped a little. "I know," he said quietly, "It's a damn waste, Carson." His body tensed, now. "A damn waste."

0o0o0

Biro and her team had removed the isolation tents, tried their best to make everything less clinical. Peter felt the dull ache of grief begin to grow, starting from his throat. In a state of numbness, he moved the ring from her right hand to her left, and then kissed her goodbye. He turned down Dr Biro's offer of getting someone to go back to the centre of the city with him. The image of her lying there was burned into his mind, and he just wanted to be alone.

His mind completed its switch to autopilot as he walked back from the east pier. Somehow he found his way onto a balcony and slipped to the floor. He curled his arms around his knees and wept.

"Peter?" Radek said softly.

He didn't really hear the voice. Or did he? Peter wasn't sure. He was so cold, so very cold.

"Peter? You need to come inside. I have been looking everywhere for you."

Now he knew that voice. It was Radek. What was Radek doing looking for him? Oh. He realised. The chill re-entered his heart. Feeling his way around with his hands, he found the warm fabric of Zelenka's shirt. He had to tell him.

"She's gone, Radek." The effort of it all was intense, and Peter gave a sob, squeezing his eyes shut. He fell back into his own space, soundless grief wracking his body.

He felt arms around him, soothing, holding.

"I know, my friend… I was with her, Peter. She was not alone. I held her. She was not alone."

Peter felt only the pain of his own distance when she'd died. He wrapped his arms around his head.

"I cut her off… I shut you all off. I couldn't reach her. She was trapped."

He could hear Radek's voice shushing him, and he could feel the solid touch.

"Don't, Peter. Don't. She was already gone before the shutdown. There was nothing to be done. I don't know how you carried on."

He sobbed again as he clung to Zelenka. He could feel the arms moving, a hand around his waist, trying to lift him.

"Come on, Peter, let me help you get to bed. You will sleep, we will talk tomorrow, yes?"

Grodin always did wonder how Radek managed to get him into his bed. Radek told him later that he'd stayed for a little, sleeping in the chair. He felt like he knew that part, though.

0o0o0

By the day of the funeral, Peter felt ready to face the crowds. They weren't crowds, really. They were the small community he'd lived with for almost a year. Every one of them knew he was hurting. Some of them were hurting just as bad. It did make it easier, he supposed. He'd seen the coffins that had been made. Rodney told him the city had a kind of function to make them, and they were incongruously beautiful. Green-blue and metallic, they shone with a vigour that didn't match his mood.

He'd been strong, controlled. It had been a strange trip to the mainland; the logistics of the whole exercise keeping everyone occupied. After they'd buried the five coffins, as they all stood around on the hillside, he'd seen Carson, standing alone at one side. He wandered across.

"Carson."

"Oh, Peter. What can I say?" Beckett sighed.

"Are you all right?"

Beckett gave an undignified snort. "Me? God, man, you're the one I'm worried about." The Scottish doctor looked up into the sky. "I wish I'd been able to do something. We were just too late." He made his hands into fists and bowed his head.

Peter swallowed. "It must have been terrible down there. It's OK, Carson. I know you were doing everything you could."

Beckett looked into his fellow Brit's eyes. They shared a moment of understanding. Helplessness was no stranger to the new occupants of Atlantis. Losing Perna had been hard for Beckett, and the memories of such powerlessness had returned

"I couldn't _do_ anything, Peter. Anything."

"I know. We'll just have to live with it. Without her."

"Aye. I'm so sorry, Peter." They stood side-by-side, hands in pockets.

"I know."

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**A/N:** If you were wondering why the Ancients had a need for a function to make coffins, well, that is something that happened in my Beckett/Chair fic from ages ago. Maybe one day Peter will wonder, too, and ask Rodney. He'd better be quick, though, he hasn't got long… 


	16. Time

**Warning: Character Death**

**Spoilers: Siege (1), Intruder**

**A/N: **True thanks to **Keenir (**aka** Rodlox** here on this site) for beta on my longest ever fic - it was very much appreciated. This is more tiny snippets so we don't all cry. Sorry this can't be a happier final chapter, everyone, but all of this fic really HAPPENED, y'know, so it's not my fault! hehe ;)

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**Chapter Sixteen**

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* * *

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"_Grodin was a pain in the ass. I miss him like hell." Dr Rodney McKay PhD_

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"Well, this is going to feel like one long trip." McKay moaned, huddling down on the rear jumper bench. He, Peter and Miller were on their way to the Ancient satellite, in an attempt to mount an advance guard against the Wraith Hive ships heading to Atlantis.

Miller looked around from where he was piloting, hoping to enjoy watching the two men seated in the rear baiting each other. He wasn't disappointed.

Peter, sitting opposite the Chief of Science, spoke, "Not withstanding your scintillating company, of course."

McKay smirked. "Of course. Well, at least we can get some sleep. First real chance in two weeks."

"Ah, so that's explains it. You really need that beauty sleep, Rodney." Peter chuckled.

McKay growled. "Very funny."

Peter looked down at his laptop. "Well, I'm just going to review the satellite schematics again."

The Canadian snorted. "Yeah, and make sure you know it like the back of your hand. It's only Earth depending on us. No undue pressure."

"Thanks for that, Rodney." Peter sighed. "You know as well as I do that looking at this again won't really make much of a difference. Until we bring it online, we have no way of telling how we're going to make this work."

McKay licked his dry lips. "Ever the optimist, Grodin. That's my line. Wanna swap places?"

Peter and McKay locked glances. Peter gave a small smile. "Sure. Anytime."

McKay looked away. It just brought home the fact that Peter had been grieving for Dumais, and he had no wish to swap places with the Brit for all the coffee left in Atlantis.

Miller glanced around, noticing the silence. "You guys OK? Only fourteen hours and forty-three minutes until we get there."

"Shut up, Miller," McKay and Peter said simultaneously, and grinned at each other.

0o0o0

"Miller?" Peter called out to the pilot in the front compartment, "If Rodney ever asks me to join him on a fifteen hour jumper flight again, make sure I decline, will you?" Peter stretched out his arms and legs in a vain attempt to get ready before they docked.

Miller kept his eyes on their rapid approach to the satellite. "Sure, whatever. Don't forget the return journey, though."

Peter's groan woke McKay.

"Huh. Oh, man, how far have we…? Hey! We're almost there! Why didn't you wake me…?" McKay started getting his gear ready, muttering under his breath the whole time.

"I told you, Rodney. You need all the beauty sleep you can get." Peter stood up calmly and went forward into the other front seat for the docking.

0o0o0

"He said he didn't want to spend another fifteen hours with us…" Miller breathed, staring out the front screen at the dissipating debris of the exploded satellite.

"Just get us out of here, Miller." McKay snarled, and retreated to the back of the jumper.

Miller sighed and turned the cloaked jumper around, heading for Atlantis. He wondered if it would still be there when the two of them got back.

0o0o0

McKay was walking past Elizabeth's open quarters. He could see her packing a bag in a rather distracted way.

"Elizabeth?"

She looked up, her eyes a little wide and wild. "What?"

McKay frowned. "I… I was just passing… um, are you ready for the trip back to Earth?"

She returned to her chaotic and random stuffing of items into the bag, and began rambling in a kind of strained voice "No, no I'm not. I have to pack, and I have to make sure everyone knows what they're doing, and I have to see Radek, and I have to make sure I take the personal effects, and…"

By this time McKay had walked right up to her side, and taken the things from her hands. "Hey. It's OK. There's time for all that. It's been the year from hell, and everyone's just shut down. Let's go get some coffee, and you can finish packing later, OK?" He didn't have the first idea what to really do for her, but it was the best he could think of. The loss of Peter had taken the edge off the defeat of the Wraith, that was for sure.

She nodded, her pale face smiling weakly. "You're right. There's no hurry now, is there?"

He shook his head. "No. No hurry now."

They walked to the mess hall in companionable silence.

**_fin_**

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**A/N:** Many thanks for reading. I just had to make that journey, and I was glad of the company. Everyone who reviewed was lovely, thank you all. Um... anyone got a Kleenex?


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